


Never Truly

by TheIntelligentHufflepuff



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 22:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20496365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIntelligentHufflepuff/pseuds/TheIntelligentHufflepuff
Summary: They never meant to get in trouble, truly. At least, Cole never did. It just happened.And it also just so happened that this time, their trouble led to the two of them sitting in the back of a cart trundling back to Charlottesville, Cole’s wrist sprained once more, Anne’s nose broken, and the last train miles ahead of them.“Aunt Josephine is going to kill us.” Cole proclaimed.The cart rounded a corner sharply, tipping Cole onto his bruised ribs. He winced.“You don’t have to face Marilla.” Anne added gloomily, words muffled by her swollen lips.(Cole and Anne get into a brawl but not with each other, Gilbert plays doctor, and Anne just about starts to admit to herself that she might have feelings for him)





	Never Truly

**Author's Note:**

> a) I dunno WHY I decided it would be fun for Cole and Anne to get into a brawl but they're here, they're queer, and Anne at least is ready to fite  
b) I know next to nothing about medicine, or the frequency of the train service in rural (?) Canada at the turn of the 20th century  
c) I imagine this to be in season 3 so they're like 16 and Gilbert is however the heck old he is bc I can't work out if they're the same age or not  
d) I also know next to nothing about Canadian slang at the turn of the century, so sorry if they alternate between sounding like Jane Austen and Oscar Wilde characters  
e) yes, 'never touching but always touched' is a Star Trek reference/phrase transplant

They never meant to get in trouble, truly. At least, Cole never did. It just happened. 

And it also just so happened that this time, their trouble led to the two of them sitting in the back of a cart trundling back to Charlottesville, Cole’s wrist sprained once more, Anne’s nose broken, and the last train miles ahead of them. 

“Aunt Josephine is going to kill us.” Cole proclaimed. 

The cart rounded a corner sharply, tipping Cole onto his bruised ribs. He winced. 

“You don’t have to face Marilla.” Anne added gloomily, words muffled by her swollen lips. 

Cole didn’t respond; they’d crested a hill overlooking the outskirts of Charlottesville, and even though the dwellings in this area by no means matched the grandeur of Aunt Josephine’s residence, they still formed a cityscape pocked with light and dark that caught you in a way Cole could only ever hope to capture. A point of warmth bloomed on Cole’s shoulder. Anne’s hair, escaping its bonds, tickled Cole’s neck ever so lightly as she sighed dreamily. 

“It’s like a city of souls, yearning for each other, never touching but always touched.” 

A tad melodramatic, maybe, but accurate enough. Someday Anne would catch people with words the same way the city caught him with its art. 

The cart pulled to a stop. 

“You get off, now.” the driver instructed them, glaring a little at Anne’s head on Cole’s shoulder. Internally, Cole laughed. 

“Thank you!” Anne called, as Cole gave her a hand down. 

She wouldn’t have needed it, if it wasn’t for her ankle. Cole didn’t know quite what was wrong with it, but she was limping. 

In a clatter of wheels, the cart was off. Cole looked around, trying to judge the right direction to walk. 

“That way, I think.” Anne offered, pointing east. Cole agreed. 

“Can you walk?” he asked. 

Anne stuck up her nose at him. Typical. 

“Yes.” 

Cole raised an eyebrow as she limped away, but didn’t bother questioning her. It wasn’t hard for him to catch up. 

“This is a bad neighbourhood to be in.” he noted quietly, and not at all anxiously, thank you very much. 

“I’m used to this.” Anne replied frankly, giving Cole a little teasing smile “Walk confidently and follow my lead. We’ll be fine.” 

“That’s what you said earlier, and now look at us.” Cole groused, but did as she said. 

**** 

“We’ll be fine.” Anne said, trying to inject every confidence into an assertion she didn’t quite believe was true. 

“I’m sure.” Cole easily agreed, nodding ahead of them beyond the iron gates “Unless they kidnap us for artistic talent. Those flowers are incredibly bland.” 

Anne snorted in a way that was very much not befitting a lady adventurer, but she couldn’t stop herself from relaxing slightly. Cole’s joke reminded her that, this time, she was entering the orphanage with a friend by her side. And she was entering as a free woman. 

“Thank you for coming.” she muttered. 

“You made me.” Cole bat back, which they both knew was only half the truth. 

Anne shook her head, and squared her shoulders “Come on.” 

As they crossed to the front door, Anne tried to ignore the sensation of being tracked by hundreds of eyes peering out of the slate-dark windows. There would be no-one in them at this time of day, it was the lunch hour. 

They stood in front of the door. Anne knew she should knock, or the day’s travelling would be worth nothing- and she would never get the information she came for. But somehow, the blue wood in front of her, lit by autumn sun, was morphing into the peeling gray of the Hammond’s, the studded metal of the boilers Anne always got shoved behind, the clammy wood of a cellar hatch closing down, down- 

“Anne?”

She cleared her throat and admitted, painfully “I can’t seem to make myself knock.” 

“Okay.” Cole said, and leant past her to rap firmly on the door three times. 

“Cole!” Anne hissed, but it was too late- the door was opened by a maid carrying a dustpan and brush. 

She eyed them suspiciously “Can I help you?” 

Oh, well. Anne forced herself to smile. 

“I’m Anne. I used to live here but I was adopted. I was wondering if I could speak to the matron?” 

“Hmm.” the maid said, gaze shifting to Cole “And you are?” 

“My name’s Cole. I’m Anne’s friend. I’m not, uh, from here.” 

“Hmm.” the maid said once more “Follow me. Matron’s away, but she’ll be back in the afternoon. You can wait in the servants’ kitchen. And stay there until called.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Anne and Cole muttered, sharing a look. 

They had nearly reached their destination when the bell signalling the end of lunch hour rang and a stream of orphans emerged from the dining room, the entrance of which was adjacent to the servants’ kitchen. The maid hmm-ed yet again and stepped aside to let the stream past, Anne and Cole following suit. Most of the orphans were new since Anne had last been inside, but some of the older ones weren’t and as she noticed them noticing her she had never been more grateful for the silence imposed throughout the building. Even so, she was very nearly distracted enough to miss Cole’s gaze catching on one particular member of the boys’ line: the handsomest, and the meanest. Richard King. 

Anne just about caught the enraged blaze in Richard’s eyes before the tide passed, and she and Cole were ushered into the servants’ kitchen to wait. 

Sweat beaded on her skin. Anne could only hope that the matron returned soon enough, and answered her questions promptly enough, for them to escape before Richard had time to retaliate. And if only she had a chance to warn Cole! But they weren’t alone. 

And the matron didn’t come quickly at all. By the time she arrived (and was willing to see them) it was getting on for four o’ clock, so that by the time they left dusk was settling on the branches and they were having to hurry for the train. The worst of it was, the matron hadn’t even been able or bothered to provide Anne with half of the answers she needed. 

Or, that was the worst of it until, halfway down the orphanage’s long drive, Richard leaped out of the bushes and tackled Cole to the ground. 

Cole yelled as he landed hard on his wrist, but Richard offered no release, digging his knees brutally into Cole’s sides. 

“Stop!” Anne yelled. 

Richard ignored her, impervious to Cole’s frantic struggling as he brought his fist down. Forcefully. Cole threw his head to the side, barely avoiding a blow that left a dent in the earth. Anne felt sick. Richard’s hand wrapped around Cole’s throat. 

Anne felt angry. Very angry. 

Richard raised his fist again, grinning as Cole’s feet grappled against the dirt track for purchase. Anne moved, diving forwards, tackling Richard away; sheer surprise and momentum brought him down. 

But not for long. Snorting like a bull, Richard rolled up and came down, fists flying. Anne screamed as blinding pain broke across her face, her teeth clanged, and her nose _ shifted _across her skull. Eyes blurred with blood and tears, she kicked out. One foot connected, but she didn’t have time to revel in her victory before Richard was catching her other foot with his hand and yanking. Desperately, she tried to scramble away but her foot gave out under her weight. She screamed, and then Richard was on her again, pinning her down just like Cole, one grimy hand covering her mouth, smothering her as another pinched her nose, not budging even as she bit down hard enough to draw blood and no, no, no- 

“Fucking bastard!” 

Richard was gone. Anne struggled to her knees, frantically wiping her eyes clean to see Cole flat on his back, arms wrapped around Richard in a choke hold, trying to hold him down. Heart pounding, Anne crawled over to the ditch alongside the road, feeling around until her hands fell on a long piece of broken branch. As quickly as she could on unsteady feet, she ran over to where Richard was steadily making his way free. 

“Duck.” she told Cole, before whacking Richard over the head. 

His gaze shot to her, surprised, before his eyes slid closed. 

For a moment, they just stayed there, breathing. Then Cole was rolling Richard off him and leaping up, Anne was taking him into her arms, and she was crying. Or actually, given the tears Anne felt on the collar of her dress, they both were. 

Anne pulled away “We need to go. I know a stream where we can wash ourselves off.”

“Good idea.” Cole agreed shakily. He was very pale. 

They set off. 

*** 

“Please don’t tell Aunt Josephine I swore.” Cole whispered as they stood a little way away from her house, just outside the golden glow of its windows. 

After a beat, he turned to face Anne fully, looking horrified “Was that the first time you’ve heard someone swear? I’m so sorry, I was just really angry, and-” 

“I’ve heard a lot worse.” Anne cut him off “It’s fine. I’m hardly a blushing maiden yet.”

Despite the fact that Cole was practically carrying her, which she hated. He had been ever since they were approached by an old man with a toothless grin halfway home; Cole had panicked and put his arm around Anne as if they were an item, which didn’t do nearly as much to deter the man as the well practiced half-crazed-half-beligerent look Anne sent him, but was a strong attempt. After that, Cole had casually mentioned how much more quickly Anne was walking with support, and she hadn’t been able to deny that progress was easier. For her, at least. Cole practically looked like a ghost. 

Anne squeezed his hand “I’m sorry this is such a mess. Thank you for helping me.” 

Cole squeezed their linked hands in return “Thank you for saving me. Come on,” they started towards the door “It’s your turn to knock.” 

She did. Immediately, she heard feet running to the door as well as the more sedate rhythmic thumping of a walking stick. Someone wrenched the door open, and there was Gilbert Blythe, followed shortly by Aunt Josephine. They both froze. 

Then Aunt Joesphine was exclaiming “my goodness!” and calling for her butler, while Gilbert was lurching forwards urgently and saying “Anne!” in a way that was, she would admit, rather heroic. 

It was somewhat fitting, if no less embarrassing, that she then promptly fainted. 

*** 

Cole felt Anne become dead weight a second before she slumped down. He grabbed at her, looping an arm around her waist to keep her up. Cole could see Gilbert eyeing it, but he had to hand it to him, he wasn’t distracted at all. 

“Let’s get her inside.” he instructed, brows pulled together in concern “I’ll grab her legs.” 

“There’s something wrong with her ankle.” Cole warned him. 

Gilbert frowned harder, but nodded, gripping Anne’s ankles gently and, dare Cole say it, tenderly. 

_ How _ Anne was _ still _oblivious to the fact that Gilbert was halfway to being properly, adult-ly in love with her, Cole didn’t know. 

But he had more pressing concerns. 

Mindful of his wrist, Cole go a hold of Anne and together he and Gilbert managed to deposit her on the parlour couch. Once achieved, Cole retreated to an armchair, happy enough to finally rest in a comfortable seat and try to come down from the stress high he’d been experiencing since early that evening. Except, he couldn’t because Aunt Josephine was demanding a run-down of his injuries and Gilbert needed to know Anne’s. 

“I’ve got a sprained wrist, and I think bruised ribs. Anne was punched in the face a few times, and there’s also her ankle. I don’t know if anything else happened.” 

“How?” Aunt Josephine asked. 

Cole spread his arms out defensively “I was distracted.” 

“Don’t be smart with me, now!” Aunt Josephine scolded “I mean, how were you both injured? Were you fighting?” 

“Not each other.” 

“Sorry, but it doesn’t matter now.” Gilbert interrupted them “Cole, fetch warm water, towels, some spirit with a high alcohol content, bandages, and a wooden spoon. Miss Barry, could you please check underneath her dress?” 

Cole nodded and left, shortly followed by Gilbert, who hovered outside close to the door. When Cole returned, he was just re-entering the room. 

“Anything?” 

Aunt Josephine shook her head “No, nothing new.” 

“Nothing new?” Cole echoed. 

They both ignored him, Gilbert getting to work determinedly. Artistically speaking, he had a lovely profile, and a divot between his brows which made him seem so much more manly than he ever had before. Cole could acknowledge what Anne denied she saw in him. 

“Hold her leg still?” Gilbert asked distractedly at one point. 

Cole did as he was told, and soon enough Anne was sterilised and bandaged in all the right places, ankle set in a splint. It was Cole’s turn then. Gilbert dealt with the bruises and bashes with terrifying efficiency, wrapped up Cole's wrist so firmly he was half convinced it was going to fall off. However, Gilbert was slightly stumped by Cole’s ribs. In the end, he wrapped them up with a cold compress for want of a better idea. Cole hoped it worked, but didn’t have a lot of time to ponder; no sooner had Gilbert tied off the last bandage, than Anne jerked upright with an aborted screech. 

Cole flinched back. Gilbert and Aunt Josephine leant forwards. Anne got the plush back of the couch in a death grip and stared at them dazedly, chest heaving. No-one spoke. Then, blessed recognition flooded into Anne’s eyes and she released the couch sheepishly, drawing herself into a sitting position. 

“Sorry for the fright.” she laughed weakly at the exact same time that Gilbert said “You should really lie down.” 

Anne shook her head, wrenching her gaze away from Gilbert’s to inspect her bandages curiously “I’m fine. Thank you, Doctor Blythe.”

Gilbert smiled softly “My pleasure.” 

Amusing as it all was, Cole cleared his throat “Yes, thank you for patching me up.” 

Gilbert barely glanced at him, but got the hint to take a step back and calm down. Unfortunately, that left him hovering in the middle of the room like a discombobulated moth. Anne shuffled over on the couch, and Gilbert sat down next to her in a way that could only be described as gingerly. Anne shot him a slightly offended look, but they were saved from her melodramatics by Aunt Josephine, who asked Billings to fetch them some food and then asked - or rather, instructed - Cole and Anne to _ please _explain what had happened. 

“I’m not entirely sure.” Cole replied honestly. 

His response was not satisfactory for Aunt Josephine, who immediately directed her enquiring gaze to Anne “Were you mugged at the station?” 

“No, we didn’t catch the train. That’s why we’re late.”

“Whyever not? How did you get home?” 

“Well, it’s mostly my fault- we left the orphanage later than I’d hoped, but I couldn’t _ bear _ to leave without having found _ anything _, and...Well, we were hurrying for the train when Richard King attacked Cole and-” 

Aunt Jospehine looked at Cole in concern “Why did he do that?” 

Cole swallowed. He had an inkling, but whether he wanted to express it for Gilbert to hear, he wasn’t sure. He knew Gilbert was a decent sort of fellow, but often decency only stretched so far. 

“Uh-” 

“He’s very easily offended.” Anne cut in smoothly “Bullish. He always resented me for existing, so I suspect he felt similarly about Cole.” 

“What did you ever do to him?” Gilbert asked Anne, looking genuinely affronted on her behalf. 

She gave him a pitying smile and didn’t reply. Unlike Gilbert, Cole wasn’t in the least confused. He could sympathise with Anne very well. Fortuitously, Billings chose that moment to enter bearing fruit cake and cheese. As soon as he set the platter down, he and Anne descended on it. They hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and it was nearing midnight. 

“Were there others with him?” 

“No,” Cole mumbled, swallowing the rest of his bite quickly “Just him.” 

“Which was lucky,” Anne added “Because more people would be harder to fight off. On the other hand, if there were witnesses he may not have tried so hard to actually kill us.” 

She picked up another slice of fruitcake. 

“Kill you?” 

Both Gilbert and Aunt Josephine’s heads whipped around to seek confirmation in Cole. Sickening though it was to admit, he nodded “He tried to suffocate both of us. And he definitely didn’t pull his punches. Even with Anne.” 

“‘Even’?” Anne echoed, confused. 

“Usually young men don’t attempt to beat young women to death, dear.” Aunt Josephine informed her neutrally. 

Anne opened her mouth to say something, but held her tongue. Cole could almost perceive the memories clouding around her as her gaze drifted, though he couldn’t possibly know all their contents. 

Gilbert looked stricken. He shot up, fists clenched, and began pacing. 

“What do we do?” Gilbert muttered “I’ll kill him, I swear…” 

_ Don’t get too worked up on my account _, Cole was tempted to snark. He refrained. 

“...Which police force is responsible for-” 

“Police?” Anne interrupted, all of a sudden lucid and incredulous “I can assure you, they will not do a thing.” 

“When did you become so jaded?” 

Anne met Gilbert’s accusing eyes “I’m not jaded. Just experienced.” 

“Fine. The matron?” 

“Will know soon enough, and forget about it sooner.” 

“Surely he won’t _ tell _her.” 

“Of course not,” Anne scoffed “But somebody will find him.” 

“Anne knocked him out with a branch.” Cole explained, not trying to hide his amusement. 

“Cole held him down.” Anne deflected, but Cole couldn’t miss the small answering tick of her lips as Gilbert grinned at her, proud, impressed, and smitten. 

Then Anne’s eyes widened in horror “Oh God! I didn’t check his breathing. Do you think I killed him?” 

“I’m sure you couldn’t have hit him hard enough, and in the right place, to do that.” Gilbert replied, cool and professional. Cole said nothing about the fingers crossed behind his back.

“Oh, good.” Anne’s shoulders deflated “He’s wicked, but I don’t want to become a murderer.” 

“And I’m sure the matron does not want to be accused of harbouring criminals.” Aunt Josephine observed, expertly changing the topic “Are you sure there is nothing to be done?” 

“Yes,” Anne nodded “The matron is a coward. If she’s scared of me wanting answers to simple questions, she’ll surely be scared of Richard King.” 

“She wasn’t co-operative, then?” Gilbert asked kindly. 

Anne shook her head. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright.” Anne brightened “There’s plenty more time for ancestral adventures.” 

“Next time you go to the orphanage, take Gilbert.” Cole suggested mildly. 

“Yes. Do.” Gilbert agreed darkly. 

Anne rolled her eyes at them. It was probably a good thing that at that point, Aunt Josephine made the executive decision to shoo them off to bed. 

****

Despite their late bedtime, Anne and Gilbert both decided that it was probably for the best to get the first train back to Avonlea in the morning. Resultantly, they were both nearly falling asleep in their seats when it finally occurred to Anne that Gilbert wasn’t really even meant to be there at all. 

“Why didn’t you take the train home yesterday?” she asked.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow at her like she’d said something really stupid “You didn’t come back to Miss Barry’s on time.” 

Redundantly, Anne drew herself up “You didn’t have to wait for me. I keep telling Marilla, I can take a train on my own.” 

“I doubt you coming home looking like that will convince her.” 

Anne huffed “It’s not as if I started it. I was defending Cole.” 

“His princess in shining armour.” 

“Hey!” Anne snapped, disappointed. She expected better from Gilbert. 

His mouth gaped “What?” 

“Don’t call him weak. He gave as good as he could.” 

“I wasn’t! I know he did, he’s a good man. I was,” Gilbert turned ever so slightly pink “Calling you strong.” 

“Oh.” Anne preened a little “Thank you.” 

“Anyway.” Gilbert said, as awkwardly as it was possible for him to sound “I wouldn’t have left Charlottesville unless I knew you were safe, even if you were late because you’d eloped with Cole.” 

“That’s…” Anne trailed off, then confessed, “I don’t know how to feel about that.” 

Gilbert gestured for her to go on. 

“Well,” Anne sat back in her seat “I’m grateful that you’re...concerned. But I resent the way everyone seems to treat me like I need supervision to walk down the street. I mean,” her voice rose somewhat “Marilla makes _ Jerry _ accompany me to town. If anything, I should be the one accompanying him! And now _ you _ , fretting over where I am. And Marilla and Aunt Josephine not letting me go to the orphanage without Cole. _ The orphanage _! It’s as if everyone’s convinced I’m about to be kidnapped at any given moment. Like I’m less of a fully functioning person just because I’m somebody’s daughter. And it’s stupid, because the only time I’ve actually been tied up is in my own home!” 

“You were tied up?” Gilbert echoed “By who?” 

Yes, Anne supposed she had forgotten to mention that. 

“Our borders. Before they absconded with everyone’s money.” she scoffed “They didn’t even lock the door! Marilla and I were able to escape in no time.” 

“That’s a relief.” 

Anne ignored the butterflies that fluttered to life in her stomach _ and _ the little voice in her head that crooned _ he cares about me. _She wasn’t a lovesick loon like Josie Pye. 

They didn’t talk much after that, only having one brief but passionate debate when Gilbert insisted that they borrow a horse to take her back to Green Gables, and that she sit in front of him as they rode it. Anne hoped Gilbert felt the seven circles of Hell in the glare she sent him, but relented on the condition that she manage the reigns. There was no way they were going to leave the station until midday otherwise. 

Luckily, they barely encountered anyone as they trotted through the town- Anne didn’t think she could bare the rumours about her dishevelled state. As they neared the farm, Anne spotted Jerry unlatching the gate for Matthew. 

“Oh dear.” she said under her breath. 

Gilbert patted her arm.

“I can stay with you to explain, if you want?” he offered. 

Anne nearly refused, then caught sight of Marilla charging down to the gate. They’d been spotted. 

“Please.” 

Anne could almost sense him smile. 

She brought them to a stop just outside the gate. Someone said her name, but she was a little distracted by the way Gilbert hopped off nimbly, and grinned up at her. 

“If I offer to lift you down, are you going to whack me?” 

Anne twitched her foot. 

“Yes.” 

She got herself down, stumbling a little into Gilbert’s annoyingly ready arms. The other three came rushing towards them, and all of a sudden Anne was being spun round. 

“Whatever happened to you, girl? Never in my life-” Marilla blustered. 

“Where were you? I had to do all your morning chores.” Jerry accused “And who hit you? Was it him?” 

Above it all, Anne centred in on Matthew, who was talking lowly to Gilbert “Thank you for getting her home. It was a great worry to us when she didn’t turn up last night.”

“To me, too.” Gilbert replied ruefully. Anne kicked him in the shin. 

“It would be more fitting to recount our adventures around a fire, even if it isn’t lit, would it not?” she noted pointedly. 

Marilla nodded stiffly and spun on her heel. The others followed after, Gilbert’s hand hovering somewhere over Anne’s elbow, just like when she’d happened upon him in Charlottestown outside the pawn shop months ago. The gesture pleased and irritated her in equal measure. Jerry hesitated at the threshold of the kitchen door, but Anne ushered him. Then, for the second time in too few hours, Anne recounted her and Cole’s ordeal. This time, though, she added a little more sparkle than at Miss Barry’s- best to let the Cuthberts think her story was somewhat extrapolated than for them to worry. When she’d finished, and Gilbert had quickly assured them that in his semi-professional medical opinion Anne would recover in a matter of days, Anne finally looked her family in the eye. Marilla’s lips were a taut line, as were Matthew’s. However, a twitching in his lips suggested he wasn’t entirely disapproving, and Jerry frankly looked impressed. 

“You really knocked him out?” he asked. 

Anne nodded, smug. She’d got him beat. 

“That is _ not _something to be proud of, young lady. You should not be brawling in the streets.” Marilla scolded. 

Anne’s jaw fell open “What did you want me to do, just let him beat Cole to a pulp?” 

“Don’t be daft.” Marilla bat back “You should have gone for help.” 

Jerry scampered off, while Matthew and Gilbert began not-so-subtly backing away. 

“By the time I got back, _ if _anyone ever came, he could be dead!” 

“I _ respect _that you tried to help him, Anne, but you shouldn’t-” 

“He’s my friend!” 

“Yes, well if he-” 

“Respectfully, Miss Cuthbert,” Gilbert cut in, to everyone’s shock “From my experience of these things, I think Anne salvaged the situation remarkably well. I know Anne, at least, will want to continue this discussion, but I suggest,” he turned to her, sloping smile taking over his face “She get some sleep and a bath first. As for me, I need to return our borrowed horse.” 

“You should go home first.” Anne said without consciously deciding to “Bash and Mary will be worried.” 

Gilbert’s eyes twitched in surprise, but he nodded. 

“Take Jerry with you. He’ll return the horse after you’re home.” 

Gilbert nodded “Thank you, Mr Cuthbert. If that’s alright with Jerry.” 

“He won’t mind.” Anne assured him “And if he does, I’ll owe him some chores.” 

Gilbert smiled in thanks, and took his leave. Absentmindedly, Anne crossed to the window to watch him leave. 

“If you’re trying to put me in a grave with your trouble, you’ve nearly succeeded.” Marilla griped, but she placed her warm hand firmly on Anne’s shoulder nonetheless. 

“I never mean to get in trouble, it just happens!.” Anne protested, stifled slightly by a yawn. 

Marilla guided her gently towards the stairs “Never?” 

“Well,” Anne flashed an impish grin, ascending the stairs as elegantly as she could on four hours’ sleep “Almost never.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Edited 5th September 2019 (immediately after waking up, so fingers crossed not atrociously) bc I realised Cole's injured wrist disappeared for no reason


End file.
